Errant Arrows
by VigaHrolf
Summary: Even a single arrow can change the fate of a person. For a reclusive ranger in the woods of the Sword Coast with much to hide, this could not be more true.


_Author's note: A bit of an experimental tale, trying out something new. Very interested in comments and thoughts. Standard disclaimers on ownership of copyright/IP, Katrina is mine, the rest belongs to their respective copyright holders._

_Enjoy_

**Errant Arrows - Chapter 1**

The day dawned pink and raw, the swirling remnants of the evening's storms blowing out to sea but leaving an indelible and bright mark on the sky as they did. It was almost as if the sky was grieving some great sin done beneath it during the past evening. Last night's storm, as it rattled and hammered her little cabin, certainly would have been the appropriate backdrop for such an act. Lurid flashes of lightning had lit up the sky like midday and thunder crashed like a dozen swords on shields. Sleep had been desperately hard to come by last night, the storm leaving her at turns fascinated and frightened. She'd collapsed into exhausted sleep as soon as it passed, but dawn's early arrival left her more than a little tired.

That helped explain the large earthenware jug of tea sitting by her. It might have been a waste of resources, but she did have a good collection of skins and herbs to trade when she went north to the Inn again. So, she couldn't really begrudge herself the decision to brew it. Too much.

Sipping some of the pungent tea from her jug, she set aside her knife and the shaft she was refletching. The ocean looked particularly grey but beautiful from her hilltop this morning, framed in the green of the trees. Some branches were down, good wood she'd have to collect. And the storm could have spawned a few lightning clove trees. Bolt seared wood made for good, strong shafts. She should patrol east, see if she couldn't get lucky.

Setting the jug down on a handy rock, she gathered up her journal and the nub of charcoal she wrote with. It was an important observation and she didn't want to lose it when the shift occurred. She slotted it into the day's journal, right after fletching and gathering fresh herbs for this week's meals. If she didn't, she was as likely to forget and spend the day wandering the woods aimlessly instead of doing what needed doing.

Thank the gods she didn't lose her ability to read.

Finishing the notation, she sighed heavily and closed the small journal, sliding it into a hip pocket on her leathers. The pencil went into its little pouch as well, right where it always was. That engendered another sigh, this one for how regimented, even out here in the Wild, she had to live her life. It was tiring, so wearing, but her life required certain strict patterns. If she failed to follow them, she could spend days trying to undo the foolishness unleashed.

She went back to fletching, careful and delicate work. Work to be done now before… before it happened again. Before she… she…

This was really boring. Sure it was important, but it was such a pretty morning! Spending it all sitting and playing with some silly busted arrows was such a waste of time. Stuffing the remaining arrows in her quiver, she grabbed her bow, because you needed that and it would be silly to leave -that- behind, and hopped down off her perch. A walk would be lots of fun! Should be new flowers on Dome Hill!

She whistled along the paths, waving to the animals she passed by, stopping to watch two fawns play in a field. They were just so cute. Finally, they ran off and she went back to her walk, following her favorite trail. So there were things in the book she needed to, but the morning was just so pretty and it'd be even prettier from Dome Hill!

It was too. She got to Dome Hill, sat under her favoritest tree. She could see the ocean and the big fortress place from there. Stretching out, she breathed deep of tangy salty air and watched the clouds roll. Such a pretty pretty morning. Smiling, she settled on top of her favorite sun rock and stretched out, watching the clouds roll across the sky. Watching the sky was so much better than stupid chores.

A shout, a really loud one but far away, startled her. She turned her head; it was coming from the woods. There was another shout, this one sounding like someone in trouble. She frowned intently. No one really ever came to visit her, and she was supposed to keep it that way. Because people were trouble. That's what was written down, so it had to be right. But that was definitely someone in trouble. She couldn't just do nothing.

She had to help.

Jumping off her rock, she set off in the direction of the sound. There was another shout from off in the pines. It sounded like bad trouble.

Running through the trees, she unslung and tested her bow. Always had to test it first, make sure the string was taut. That's what was written, so that's what she did.

Running around Old Birch and past the Gnarled Vee Pine, she dodged through some thick underbrush, some of it smacking her in the face. Which hurt a lot. But now she could see who was screaming.

There were two people. One was a girl and one was a boy. Both were really young. The girl was redheaded and was lying on the ground. She had a bow, but she must have dropped it when she got hurt. The boy was tall and brown haired. He had armor and a sword. Both were bleeding, the redhead looking very bad. Bleeding because of Chopped Tail. The boy was holding off Chopped Tail with his sword. Even Chopped Tail was wary of that, but the boy looked weak and tired.

Chopped Tail was an old and mean wolf. The rest of the pack had chased him out for being mean. She'd thought about doing something about Chopped Tail, but he'd left her alone. He knew she was dangerous. But he'd attacked these people. They even looked like nice people, especially the redhead. She looked very nice. And now Chopped Tail was going to try and eat them.

That was mean. She needed to stop him.

Fitting an arrow to the string, she stepped out of the bush. Aiming at the big mean wolf she whistled loud. Other wolves would stop when she did that. But Chopped Tail didn't want to. He just glared at her. He wanted to eat those people.

She couldn't let him. It wouldn't be right.

Sniffling, she tightened her aim and let out her breath, just like she was supposed to. She focused, ignoring the shouts from the boy and girl, the growl from Chopped Tail. They weren't important. Then, she let the arrow go.

It hit Chopped Tail, right in the chest. Poor mean Chopped Tail whined and his grey fur went red. He growled once, took a step and then fell down. Chopped Tail was dead. She killed him. Killed him for the boy and the girl. She hadn't wanted to kill Chopped Tail. But she did.

People were trouble.

"Thank you for your assistance," the boy said. "If you hadn't come when you did, I don't know…"

She looked at him. He wasn't a boy. He was older, just pale and mostly clean shaven. "I didn't want to kill him."

"Well, thank you anyway, without your help…"

"You are wounded," she said. The young man bled from his left leg and arm where his chain shirt didn't reach. The wounds were significant if not life threatening. The girl's injuries however, were far more severe. Her leather jerkin bore bite and tear marks along the arm and abdomen. Old Chopped Tail had done his work well, obviously trying to cripple the smaller and wear down the stronger of the pair.

"I'm okay. But Immy…"

"Is in much more dire straits," she said, interrupting him. As much as it was the right thing to do, she damned the curse that brought her here. "If you will allow me, I can tend to her. But decide quickly."

He hustled over to her side, kneeling down. The redhead had a hand clamped over her stomach, her face pale and tight with pain. Still, she tried to give him a brave smile. Looking from Immy to her, he asked, voice unsteady, "Is she?"

Assuming that was an invitation, she knelt down next to the small, lithe redhead. "Help me remove her jerkin and lie her flat. I need to examine the wounds."

He did as she bade, the redhead, 'Immy' grimacing as they pulled her free of the jerkin. The cured leather was badly damaged and would need some work before it would be whole again. So would the redhead.

Drawing her dagger, she cut open the tunic sleeve and belly. "Hey! That's my best tunic!" Immy complained softly, trying to inject levity where there was little cause for it. She simply let it roll off her shoulders, but it brought a smile to her companion's face. They were close, that much obvious just from the way he was holding her hand.

"Not any longer," she answered, pulling open the torn linen. Chopped Tail had done a number on the girl, the claw marks deep in her stomach and a deep bite in her bicep. Sucking her teeth, she reached into a belt pouch and produced a small, stoppered bottled sloshing with light blue liquid. "Give her this. I will bandage the wounds."

Unfolding raw linen bandages, she wrapped the stomach and arm quickly as he gave her the potion. Between their efforts, color quickly returned to the redhead's cheeks. "Wow… that's a lot better!" she said. Immy made an attempt to sit up, but she shoved her down. "Hey! What was that for?"

"I just finished putting your stomach back together. Pity to undo that, especially with potions in short supply. Now you lay there while I attend to …"

"Solen. Solen of Candlekeep."

"Solen," she said, pulling out a fresh bandage and shoving the sleeve of his chain shirt up. She wrapped the arm, a very well muscled one, a soldier's arm, and pulled the bandage tight. Another went around the leg. "Now neither of you should bleed to death." Looking up, studying young Solen's face, she asked, "Care to explain why you're so far from Candlekeep's walls?"

Pain flashed across the young man's face, and not of the physical kind. "We are on an errand." The answer was short, non committal. It was obvious there was more to it than that, but if he didn't want to discuss it, that was fine with her. She was quite familiar with topics that didn't warrant sharing.

"You are off the road," she pointed out. "Unless your errand involves herb gathering or forest exploration, you are well off the mark."

"We got lost," Immy said, still lying on the moss covered ground. "A couple of xvarts attacked up, we tried to escape and ended up lost. Then that wolf attacked us out of the blue."

"There has been a lot of trouble of late, on the road and around it," she replied. "So, where are you headed, since you're obviously not headed back to Candlekeep?"

Both sets of eyes widened slightly. She had to hide a smile. It was nice being able to surprise people with a bit of reasoning now and then.

"That is our business," Solen replied, eyes narrowing. "You ask us to share that and you haven't shared your name."

"Sorry, life in the forest tends to erode one's manners. I am Katrina. These woods are my home."

"I've never seen you before," Immy said. "I've come out here lots."

"I prefer my privacy." She gave the recumbent redhead a stern, flat look, one that brooked no follow-up questions. The redhead decidedly looked like the kind that would ask them.

"Ookay," Immy said, rolling her eyes. It was obvious the redhead thought she was funny. Oh joy. The universe did get a slight bit of revenge for her when Immy tried to sit up again. She groaned in pain and thumped back to the moss again.

Unfortunately, for that little bit of revenge, there was a high cost. The linen bandages were already beginning to spot. She frowned. Immy would not be able to move far on her own. Which left her with two unpleasant choices. She could leave her and Solen alone to fend for themselves… or she could take them with her back to her cabin.

Neither option really appealed, especially with Solen giving her the eye, but deep down, she couldn't just leave them out here in the woods. They obviously had little skill in woodcraft and some other animal or worse might come upon them. So, she'd have to risk it, risk the curse coming on around people.

It was that or not be able to live with herself.

She looked at Solen. "Put that sword to good use. I need two straight saplings, at least six feet in length."

"What for?" he asked, a well formed eyebrow arching.

"For poles for a stretcher. Your friend here will not be walking far in her condition. I do not have my full kit with me, but I do at my home. We will take her there and I will tend to her wounds."

"I'm not sure…"

"Or, I can leave the two of you here," she picked up her bow and slung it over her shoulder. "If you do not need my help."

Immy grabbed Solen's wrist. "She might be grumpy, Sol, but I think she's trying to help."

The tension and anger drained out of the swordsman. "You're right Im." He looked up and nodded. "I'll get the saplings."

"Birch or pine," she called after his back.

Solen tromped off and Immy grabbed her hand. "Hey, thanks for helping. Sol's just… he's usually a really nice guy, but …" She stopped, lips tightening and her eyes dropping. Something bad had happened to these two. Likely the reason they were on the road. Not that it was her business so long as they left her alone.

"It matters little. I will help patch you up and you can continue on your way."

"You don't like people much, do you?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"Yeah. Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

She shrugged.

"Don't like talking much either, do you?"

"You need to conserve your strength. So be quiet."

The redhead grinned.

As Solen came back from the underbrush, holding two fresh cut staves, she rolled her eyes heavenward. Damn her luck, her curse, and damn old Chopped Tail. This was going to be a long day.


End file.
